Magical Midlife Invasion (Leveling Up #3) - K.F. Breene Page 0,21

head tilted up, watching the newly empty window. “I don’t trust that house not to cause a little mischief.”

“You think Ivy House is going to out Jess?” Austin asked.

Niamh’s gaze roamed the large expanse of the building. “Maybe not out her, but it’s already messing with them. The images in the wooden carvings changed at least twice yesterday evening, and I only noticed because her el’ lad was staring. He thought something was off, I could surely tell. Didn’t pass any remarks, though. Noticed, then looked away. If I had to bet on it, I’ll say that Ivy House will aim for something a little more obvious just to see what happens. This is the same house that likes to send people sprinting out of it in horror.”

Austin had to concede that point. Despite technically being an inanimate object, the house had a mind of its own.

He took a deep breath and eyed the front door. Time to get the show on the road.

“Dreading going in there, huh?” Niamh said.

Yes. Because, if he was being really honest with himself, he knew that once he went in, he wouldn’t want to leave. Heading home alone lately had seemed like a punishment. His solo lifestyle wasn’t a comfort to him anymore. He kept reaching for the phone, wanting to talk to Jess or invite her to the bar, even on his nights off. Maybe especially on his nights off, when he could devote more time to her. He’d never had a friend like her, even when he was younger. He’d never thought about anyone this much.

He’d never been so wary of someone changing his life so completely since walking away from Destiny, the woman who had nearly ruined him.

“Dreading trying out Jess’s spell and potentially getting blown up again,” he deflected.

A motor started up from somewhere behind Ivy House.

“Ah, here. C’mere. This’ll take your mind off things.” Niamh plucked at his shirt.

He glanced at the front door, feeling Jess moving around inside, somewhat annoyed, probably from dealing with Mr. Tom or maybe her parents. He felt the pull of her, the need to be with her, to train her. Coaxing the magic out of her and watching her shape it into something magnificent… He was probably the luckiest man on earth. Every time they trained, he could see envy in the faces of the gathered gargoyles, wishing they’d been granted the rare privilege. Probably envious of Jess’s smiles when she mastered a particularly complex spell, or the way she fawned over him when she hit him with something nasty. The pain was worth her apologies, worth her touch as she inspected the damage, worth the pleasing feel of her magic as she healed his ailments.

He blew out a breath and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Yeah, okay.” He started after Niamh, who surprised him by heading for the side of the house. “Where are we going?”

“Edgar is going to mow the yard.” Niamh picked up the pace.

He didn’t bother asking why he should care. Why she did. The people of this house were strange. Jessie had told him it was easier to roll with it, and he’d found that to be true.

At the property line, he paused for a brief moment before finally stepping over it. Almost immediately, he felt a surge of recognition from Jess, followed by…dare he say pleasure? She was happy he had come.

He hated how good that felt.

At the back corner of the house, Niamh crouched beside a large bush with blooming red and white flowers. About fifty feet away, on what looked like his second trip across the lush green grass, Edgar pushed an older-style lawn mower, green flying up in its wake, coating his purple sweats. Pollen tickled Austin’s nose, and the overwhelming floral scent slapped around his senses. The vampire had gone way overboard with the flowers. Way overboard. The basajaun eating up the garden had addled the vampire’s brain. Further addled it, he should say.

“Why doesn’t Edgar get a mower that has a bag to catch the grass?” he asked. “Or hell, get a ride-on mower. Mowing all this grass and the lawn up front must take him forever.”

“If there is anything that vampire has, it is time. He likes to fill up his days. He mows, then he rakes up the fresh-cut grass, then he prunes, then he fancies around with the flowers…”

“He should probably spend more time learning to make doilies if he ever hopes to get one halfway decent.”

She huffed out

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